A Haunting Lullaby
by fire-and-ice89
Summary: The war is nearing an end. As Voldemort's captive, Hermione's memory has been wiped. Working together with Draco, she kills former friends and loved ones. Will she ever remember who she really is? And if she did, would she want to go back? DMHG
1. Captive

**A Haunting Lullaby – fire-and-ice89**

**Summary: **NEW! The war is nearing an end. As Voldemort's captive, Hermione's memory has been wiped. Working together with Draco, she kills former friends and loved ones. Will she ever remember who she really is? And if she did, would she want to go back? DHr.

**Disclaimer**: As I have said before, I really hate these. So, once again, I will say this only here, only once: I do not own the Harry Potter characters.

**A/N**: I hope you like it!

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**Chapter One – Captive**

_The house was sleeping._

_Leila crouched low in the bushes. Beside her, she was very aware of Draco, who was breathing heavily from the long run._

"_Shhh," she hissed gently into the darkness._

_He paused, and she listened intently._

_Not a sound._

_She reached over and found Draco's hand, squeezing it briefly._

"_I'm going in," she whispered, and he nodded. _

"_I'll be waiting here. Good luck."_

_She didn't need it. She never did. _

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It was dark.

Hermione blinked and sat up, trying to clear her vision, which was swarming.

Suddenly, the memories hit her, like a solid brick wall. She collapsed again, and let out a whimper.

All was lost.

She struggled to clear her thoughts, to think rationally.

She had been kidnapped. The last thing she could remember was being grabbed from behind, and seeing Harry's despairing gaze upon her face as he tried to fend off the death eaters.

Where was he now?

More importantly, where the hell was _she_?

Hermione sat up again, more slowly this time. She reached out in front of her with a shaking hand, reaching into the darkness, afraid of what she would find.

Metal. Cold metal. Her hand closed around the circular bar.

More confident, she held out the other hand, and met another rail of cold metal.

A cage.

Hermione bristled with indignation. Was it Voldemort himself who designed her captivity? Somehow she doubted it. More likely it was those sick minded death eaters.

Whoever it was, she received the message loud and clear. She was being objectified.

Slowly, she felt her way around the sides of the cage. It was extremely small, barely allowing her room to stretch out full length.

She felt around the floor, in the desperate hope that her captors might have been considerate enough to leave her a blanket.

Fat chance.

She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling the cold.

She must be in a dungeon somewhere. It had been a sunny day outside.

Hermione received a shock when she suddenly realized…she didn't know how long she'd been passed out. It could be nighttime by now.

The battle could be over.

She felt her stomach sink like lead when she thought of Harry and the rest of the students, fighting that one-sided battle. It was hopeless.

By now, she realized, Voldemort was probably in possession of Hogwarts.

She hoped to high heavens that Harry had been smart enough to escape. He would have a much better chance of defeating Voldemort in his own time, when he wasn't caught by surprise.

Hermione let out a small sob, wondering if she would ever see Harry and Ron again.

The cold intensified.

Hermione glared into the darkness, at nothing in particular.

"Lousy death eaters." She muttered to herself. "Haven't they heard of central heating?"

Her voice was almost lost in the darkness, but it was comforting. Something other than silence.

Confident that she was alone, Hermione began to speak softly to herself.

"Come on, don't lose hope. Of course you'll see Harry and Ron again. Harry's survived through so much, of course he'll live through one more battle. Especially at Hogwarts, with Dumbledore there."

She paused, contemplating that last thought. Where _had_ Dumbledore been? She couldn't recall seeing him anywhere.

She shook her head, clearing it of suspicious thoughts. He wouldn't just run and hide, leaving his school unprotected. If he wasn't at the battle, then he had probably already been captured by Voldemort.

"Happy thoughts!" She said sternly to herself, steering back to more positive topics.

_Harry's face._

_Ron's face._

_Ginny's laugh._

_Her mother's hug._

_Harry's face…_

Suddenly, Hermione felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. All those memories flew out of her mind, like startled birds flying from a tree.

It was cold. It was _so_ cold.

Hermione looked up, and saw a dark shape hovering over her.

"No," she muttered, backing against the wall of her cage. "They wouldn't. Not the dementors."

Then everything went black.

"_Hermione!"_

_A boys voice._

"_Harry, watch out!"_

_Too late._

_She was too late._

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"Hermione," Harry mumbled. He tried to reach out a hand, but he felt heavy. So heavy.

"Hermione," He opened an eye, just a crack of the way.

He was in a bed.

He opened the other eye, and exhaled a long, painful breath.

"How are you feeling?"

Harry turned his head, with great effort.

Beside the bed sat Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore!" Harry said through parched lips, trying to lift himself up on one elbow.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Rest. You've been sapped of your strength. Rest now, and we'll talk later."

"I can't…I have to know…" Harry tried to say, but the world began to spin, and everything went dark.

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It was a whole day before he woke again.

This time, Dumbledore wasn't there, but Madam Pomfrey was. Harry lay in bed for a minute, watching her fuss with his blankets.

"Where's Dumbledore?" He asked eventually. Madam Pomfrey glanced up, startled.

"I didn't realize you were awake," she said in surprise.

"Please, could you get Dumbledore," Harry said.

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips in disapproval. "You need your rest, but Dumbledore _did_ say to call him when you woke."

"Please." Harry stated simply, letting his eyes close heavily.

He heard Madam Pomfrey leave the room.

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"Are you awake?" He heard a voice ask.

Harry forced his eyes open, and looked over at Dumbledore.

"I dreamed of her." He said simply.

Dumbledore nodded. He didn't look surprised.

"What did you see?"

"She was in…a cellar of some kind. In a cage." He shuddered at the memory of a broken Hermione curled up on the bottom of a cage. Then he remembered the end of his dream, and his blood ran cold.

"There were dementors."

Dumbledore looked grave. Harry watched his reaction to the news with trepidation.

"She's in a lot of danger, isn't she, Professor?"

Dumbledore hesitated, and Harry said quickly, "Please just tell me the truth. I can handle it."

Dumbledore nodded wearily. "Yes. She's in a lot of danger."

Harry sighed heavily and leaned back on the pillows.

"I think she sensed me," he said quietly, and Dumbledore had to lean forward to hear him.

"Then she knows she's not alone," he said, and Harry nodded. It was some comfort.

They sat in silence for a while. Harry's eyes had closed, and he was almost asleep again.

Dumbledore watched him, a sad sort of smile on his lips.

He wished he could protect Harry from the reality of the situation, but that was an impossibility. Harry would find out eventually.

Hermione was out of reach forever.

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Tears leaked from the corners of Hermione's eyes.

"No!" She screamed out loud. "It's not true."

_Too late, too late, too late._

The voices repeated, whispering in her mind. The only thing separating Hermione from the dementor was the cage that she lay in. The dark shape hovered over her, and she knew without a doubt that it was aching to kiss her.

To suck out her soul.

"Not true." She sobbed, hiding her face from the evil shape. "Not true."

_Hermione…_

So faint. Her head shot up.

"Harry?" She whispered, hardly daring to hope.

_Hermione…_

She felt a strange sensation, an interior sort of warmth, and knew that Harry was reaching out to her.

"Not true." She whispered again, and a smile broke out on her lips.

"Not true," She screamed out at the dementor. "He's alive!"

Suddenly, with a cruel gush of air, the sensation was gone, and the cold returned.

Hermione fought back against it ten-fold.

"You're lying," she called out loud. "Lying, lying, lying."

The dementor seemed uncertain. It began to draw back from the cage.

"Lying, lying, lying, lying, lying." Hermione chanted, over and over again.

Somewhere in the darkness, a door burst open.

"Enough!" A man's voice roared, and Hermione subsided into silence.

Huddled on the floor, she gazed upwards to see two shapes towering over her cage.

The tallest one bent down until he was face to face with her. Hermione whimpered involuntarily to see the cruel expression on Lucius Malfoy's features.

"You're a foolish, foolish girl." He whispered in a low, threatening tone. He held her gaze for a few moments, and although Hermione tried hard to meet it, she had to look away.

Satisfied, he stood and retreated to a dark corner of the room somewhere.

Hermione looked fearfully to the other person standing before her. Ever so slowly, they started to bend down, like Lucius, until they were facing her.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and her world turned upside down.

The boy smirked, a natural gesture.

"Well, Granger, we meet again," murmured Draco Malfoy.

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**A/N**: BEFORE YOU ASK ANY QUESTIONS: that part in italics at the beginning is supposed to be confusing. All will be explained in good time.

I have big plans for this story, but I'd really like to know what people think about it. Please leave a review with your opinion on this first chapter, they really do help me. I always try and improve from criticism, and of course, compliments are what keeps me going! So please review!

**Next Chapter**: Hermione is questioned, and Voldemort comes up with a plan.


	2. Voldemort's Plan

**A Haunting Lullaby – _fire-and-ice89_**

**A/N**: A big thank you to all the people who reviewed the first chapter. Lots of compliments, wow!

A few questions were asked:

**Which house was 'sleeping'?**: You know I can't tell you that! You'll discover more about it as the story progresses.

**Who was the second person at the end of the chapter?**: Draco Malfoy! I did say that, in the very last sentence. Maybe you were skim reading.

**How does Dumbledore know what will happen to Hermione?**: He doesn't. I know that sometimes it seems like 'Dumbledore knows all', but there's no way he could know what will happen to Hermione. It's basic logic though: Hermione is Voldemort's captive, his main playing card in the war. Dumbledore knows that there is practically no chance of a successful rescue, which is why he said she was out of reach forever.

Okay, on with the next chapter. If anyone is confused about anything, ask about it in your review. I might be able to help you out.

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**Last Chapter**: 

_Hermione looked fearfully to the other person standing before her. Ever so slowly, they started to bend down, like Lucius, until they were facing her._

_Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and her world turned upside down._

_The boy smirked, a natural gesture._

"_Well, Granger, we meet again," murmured Draco Malfoy._

**Chapter Two – Voldemort's Plan**

Hermione reigned her composure quickly.

"You weren't always so cocky, Malfoy," she said with distaste. "But you're pretty confident now, aren't you? There's bars separating us, and your daddy to back you up if something goes wrong."

Malfoy was riled, she could tell.

"Shut up, mudblood." He hissed.

Hermione grinned widely when she saw Lucius step into view.

"Can't stand to see your son being beat?" She taunted.

The older Malfoy, however, was rather wiser and more experienced than his son.

"We'll see who's smiling once Voldemort's through with you," he said coolly, and Hermione's grin dropped from her face.

Lucius pulled his wand from his pocket.

"Expecto Patronum," he muttered, and a silver shield exploded at the end of his wand, lighting up the room.

Hermione flinched back from the sudden light. Quickly, she glanced around the room, taking in her surroundings. In the far corners, the dementors still hovered. Apart from the cage, there was nothing else in the room.

She turned back to Lucius and his son. Malfoy was scowling, looking very sour, and Hermione felt a flare of triumph.

But Lucius' face was cruel and cold, set hard. He looked her in the eye.

"We are going to take you out of the cage," he said slowly, as though she was stupid. "My spell will protect you from the dementors. If, however, you make a wrong move, I will no longer protect you, and trust me, the dementors will seize the opportunity."

Hermione gulped, looking at the dark shapes, and nodded to show that she understood.

Lucius gave a small nod towards Malfoy, who in turn pointed his wand towards the cage. "Alohamora," he muttered, and the cage door swung open.

Hermione stood, bent over double in the cage, and stepped out.

Her muscles were cramped. She stretched for a brief moment, before being cruelly prodded in the stomach by Malfoy.

She glared viciously at him, but he looked coldly at her and didn't react.

There was a hint of a smile on Lucius' face. He turned and started walking towards a door on the far wall, and, very aware of the dementors, Hermione stayed close on his heels.

Once they had stepped into the hallway, Hermione relaxed. She turned towards Lucius for directions, only to find his wand pointed towards her chest.

"Stupefy," he uttered, and she knew no more.

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Harry was taking slow steps across the room. He wasn't fully recovered from the battle, and he knew it.

_Baby steps_he told himself, holding onto the wall. _The most important thing here is getting Hermione home. Focus on Hermione_.

Several minutes earlier, he had been awoken by a commotion downstairs. Out of the clutter of voices he could pick out several that he knew: Moody, Dumbledore, McGonagall…

Harry pieced two and two together, and decided there must be a meeting in process.

He wasn't going to miss it.

There was a full length mirror adorning one of the walls. He looked at his reflection, and smiled wryly.

He looked ghastly. His face was deathly pale, and there were huge black rings under his eyes.

He still had that bruise on the left side of his jaw. He winced, remembering the death eater's fist of steel hitting home, and rubbed the bruise tenderly.

He had bed hair, and he hadn't washed in God knows how long.

All in all, he was a mess.

The bathroom was behind a brown door. Harry walked slowly over and turned the handle.

It contained old-fashioned furniture, as did the rest of the house.

He was at the Black's. He'd figured that out for himself, by taking a look at several of the enchanted items still plastered to the walls. One of them was another family tree, similar to the one Sirius had shown him ages ago.

He'd woken up several times now. Mostly, he found himself alone, but just yesterday, Dumbledore had been sitting by his beside. Apparently, he had decided that Harry was well enough to hear an account of the events.

When Voldemort had launched his surprise attack on Hogwarts, no one had been prepared. No one had even considered that Voldemort would dare attempt to overtake the mighty wizarding school.

As soon as Dumbledore had realized what was happening, he'd traveled through the floo network to warn the ministry. He'd arrived back with an army of helpers just in time to save the school.

But too late to save Hermione.

Several death eaters had been captured in the battle, but Voldemort slipped through the Ministries fingers, taking Hermione with him.

And apart from Harry's 'dream', no one had seen or heard from her since.

Harry sighed heavily. He had the feeling there was something Dumbledore wasn't telling him, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He walked unsteadily to the sink, where he splashed his face. The cold water shook him awake further, and he rejoiced to feel his senses alive once more.

Refreshed, Harry left the lavishly furnished bedroom for the first time in days.

The hallway was just was he remembered. Moving from memory, he turned to the right, passing all the other bedrooms.

He was curious to take a look and see who else might be in them. Perhaps Ron? He hadn't seen Ron since the battle, and he hoped his friend had also been brought to the Black's house.

But no, he reminded himself. The meeting was his first priority.

By the time he descended the staircase, the foyer was empty. Mrs Black's painting muttered something in her sleep, and Harry shuddered.

He tip-toed past her, towards the large door to the meeting room. From behind it, he could hear voices murmuring, but it was too quiet for him to decipher what they were saying.

Carefully, he turned the door knob, and pushed open the door.

About twenty surprised faces turned to face him. Dumbledore half rose out of his chair, then sat back down in defeat.

"Please, come join us, Mr. Potter." He said wearily.

"But Albus, he won't – " Professor McGonagall began to argue with him, but Dumbledore held up a hand for silence.

"He needs to know." Dumbledore said quietly.

Harry looked around with apprehension.

"What?" He asked. "What's happened? Look, will _someone_ please explain what's going on, because I've been told next to nothing."

Everyone in the room looked at each other, but didn't say a word.

Dumbledore gestured to a seat near him, and Harry went to sit down slowly.

Professor McGonagall said sharply, "Now, I'm sure Mr. Potter has lots of questions, and we can answer them later. Right now, we really need to discuss the urgent matter of – "

"That's _enough_, Minerva," Dumbledore said with force, and there was no trace of a sparkle in his eyes.

"She's right, though," said Harry. "I do have lots of questions, but I want them answered now. Did Voldemort win the battle?"

Dumbledore paused. "No. Hogwarts is still ours, but at a great cost."

Harry froze. "What cost?"

"During the battle, as well as our best student falling captive to the Dark side, three more students lost their lives."

"Who?" Harry whispered.

"Laurie Parker, George Baker…" Dumbledore paused, looking at Harry. Harry didn't know who the first two students were, but he had a fair idea he'd know who the third one was.

"Tell me." He whispered again. "Who else?"

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment before speaking.

"Ronald Weasley."

It hit him like a brick wall.

Before he knew it, Harry was sobbing. In front of all those grown men and women, he was sobbing like a baby.

But something deep down inside him changed. Some deep determination arose.

Harry tried desperately to still his sobs.

"We have to….we have to find Hermione," he gasped.

No one would look at him. Dumbledore opened his mouth, then closed it.

Minerva McGonagall took action.

"We were just discussing the situation with Ms. Granger." She said, rather gently. "It's a trap, you do realize that."

"Of course." Harry said, staring at her. "Of course it's a trap. They want to lure me there. But we have to go! We have to save Hermione!"

"I'm afraid that's not an option." She said bluntly.

"What do you mean?" Harry whispered. Then he raised his voice to a yell, and everyone jumped with fright. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, IT'S NOT AN OPTION? VOLDEMORT'S GOT HERMIONE, AND WE HAVE TO SAVE HER. WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO IT?"

"Please calm yourself, Harry. Yelling won't do anyone any good," Dumbledore said sadly.

"You! Why didn't you tell me," hissed Harry, rounding on Dumbledore. "You didn't tell me anything. Why didn't you save her? Where were you?"

"My dear boy, if Dumbledore hadn't gone to fetch the ministry, you-know-who would most certainly have possession of Hogwarts by now," said a jolly round lady on one side of the table.

Harry chose to ignore her.

"Harry, this is an extremely vulnerable time for witches and wizards around the world," said Dumbledore. "I understand that Hermione is your first priority, but it would be selfish to sacrifice the lives of witches and wizards around the world, just to save the life of one. Even if that one person is a very special girl, and very close to your heart."

Harry wasn't listening. He understood Dumbledore's logic, but it was so cold-hearted. To just leave her there…

He glared coldly at everyone around the table. They were all looking at the ceiling or the ground, anywhere but him.

"I see how it's going to be," Harry said softly, choking on his words. "But I've already lost _one_ friend. I'm not going to lose another."

No one followed him when he left the room.

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"…really necessary, Lucius?"

A chilling voice.

Hermione shivered, and retched violently.

"Ah, she awakens." That _voice_.

Footsteps rapped across the stone marble floor. It sounded like three people…two at least.

Hermione rolled over and raised her arms above her head, trying in vain to protect herself from whoever, or _whatever_ was coming her way.

Someone laughed, a small, cold laugh.

"You don't have to bother, girl. You could never protect yourself against me. Now, get up off the floor."

Hermione struggled to her feet, and found herself face to face with none other than dark lord himself.

"Voldemort," she gasped involuntarily.

She was hit around the back of the head, hard enough to make her fall to the floor again.

Lying on the cold marble, she whimpered. Stars were forming in front of her vision, but she struggled to stay conscious.

"No mudblood utters the dark lord's name." She heard Lucius hiss.

She remained crumpled on the floor.

"_Get _up, and apologize."

Slowly, she picked herself up off the floor again.

She was surrounded.

In front of her stood Voldemort, coldly inspecting her. Behind her stood Lucius and Malfoy, ready to grab her should she decide to run.

Wandless and idea-less, she had no choice.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled, staring at the ground.

Voldemort raised a finely sculptured eyebrow.

"…my Lord." She added, realizing what she wanted. It made her sick to her stomach.

"Look at him when you speak," hissed Lucius.

She looked into his red eyes, and was repulsed.

"I'm…" she swallowed hard. "I'm _sorry_, my Lord."

Something swirled in the depths of his red eyes. Hermione tried to look away, but found that she couldn't. He stared deep into her eyes, right to her soul it would seem. Assessing her.

For a short moment, he kept eye contact, but it seemed like a lifetime to Hermione. Finally, he looked over at Lucius, breaking the bond.

Hermione cast her eyes downwards, feeling incredibly dirty. She brushed off her clothes with her hands, as though she could brush the feeling away.

She turned to look at the two Malfoys, aware that something was happening.

The youngest Malfoy was sneering at her. She ignored him, and looked to the older Malfoy.

Out of his robes, he drew a small vial. Hermione's eyes widened when she saw the transparent liquid inside.

Verita-serum.

"Hold her, Draco," Lucius directed his son, who did so obligingly.

Hermione struggled against his grasp, but she had been weakened after her encounter with the dementors, and Malfoy held fast. Lucius reached out and pinched her nose. He held the vial in front of her face with the other hand, ready.

Hermione gasped quickly, realizing what he had planned, then clamped her mouth shut. She held her breath for as long as she could, but eventually she ran out of air. She needed to breathe, but Lucius was holding her nose tight.

She opened her mouth to draw breath, and the liquid poured down.

Satisfied, Lucius let go of her nose, and Draco loosened his grip. Hermione closed her eyes. It was all theirs. Anything they wanted to know.

"Ms. Granger," said Voldemort with a cold smile. "Where is Dumbledore right now?"

Hermione's eyes flew open. "I don't know." She answered truthfully. Voldemort frowned, trying to pick his questions more carefully.

"What is Harry Potter's greatest weakness?" He asked her.

Hermione paused. "I don't know."

It wasn't going well, and Voldemort knew it.

"What do you _think_ is Harry's greatest weakness?" He asked.

This she had to answer. "Love."

"Ah." Voldemort said, contemplating that thought briefly before asking the next question.

"What is the Order's next move?" He asked her.

Hermione could have laughed out loud. "I don't know."

"The child is ignorant," Lucius hissed, shaking her roughly by the shoulders. "Didn't that fool Dumbledore tell her anything?"

Voldemort did not acknowledge Lucius' outburst.

"How much do you know about the Order?" He asked her.

"Not much." She answered shortly.

"Useless. Bloody useless." Lucius said, despairing.

She was. The information she held was virtually useless to them.

Yet still the questioning process went on. Hermione deflected away question after question, revealing very little to the three, yet telling the truth every time.

One part of her loved frustrating the Dark Lord and his most dangerous death eater, not to mention her arch enemy, Malfoy. But another part of her was afraid, realizing how foolish it was to rile someone so powerful.

She didn't fear for her life, though. Not yet.

Hermione wasn't stupid. She knew that she was the bait for Harry, and to lure him here she had to be alive. She also knew that no matter how much danger that would put him in, Harry would never leave her alone here. He would come. Of course he would.

She just wished he would hurry.

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Voldemort looked out the window, not really seeing the view.

Lucius and Draco had just left to return the girl to her cell. She had known very little. Voldemort smiled grimly. Dumbledore wasn't a fool.

He didn't turn around when he heard the door open. For a few minutes, he stood there in silence, waiting. Finally, he heard Lucius speak.

"My Lord," he began, but Voldemort held up a hand to stop him.

Slowly, he turned around. Lucius and Draco stood by the door, uncertain, trying to gauge his reaction. They obviously expected him to be angry.

He was not.

"She couldn't tell us anything," he stated simply. Lucius hesitated, then nodded.

"She is not, however, useless. She is the bait for Harry Potter, and as we all know, he will come for her. And while we wait for his arrival, I have a plan. A way to put her to use."

"What's your plan, my Lord?" Lucius asked eagerly.

Voldemort paused, and seemed to ignore Lucius' question. Instead, he turned to Draco.

"You've done very well, Draco," he said, and the boy puffed up with pride. "You've proved yourself to be a loyal supporter. Without your inside information, the attack on Hogwarts wouldn't have been nearly so successful."

Draco suddenly looked confused. So did Lucius.

"My Lord," he interrupted. "The mission failed."

Voldemort turned on him.

"Do you dare to defy me?" he hissed.

"No, my Lord. I'm sorry, my Lord," Lucius said hurriedly, backing away.

"We have the girl." Voldemort said. "You might think she's useless, but that just proves how short-sighted you really are."

Lucius winced at the insult, and Voldemort turned back to Draco.

"As I was saying, you have done very well. I think you might be ready for training."

"Training?" Draco asked, and his eyes lit up. Lucius made a sound of disagreement from the corner, but wisely chose not to interrupt again.

"However," Voldemort continued, and Draco looked wary. "I think you need a partner. The two of you could train together, and embark on your missions together."

Draco was puzzled, but Lucius was catching on.

"My Lord, I agree with you completely, but you can't possibly mean that – "

"Hermione Granger will be your partner."

Draco was horrified. "I'm not working with a mudblood!" He exclaimed.

Lucius presented his argument rather more rationally. "My Lord, she's the best friend of your enemy. Do you really think she'd work for the dark side so willingly?"

Voldemort sighed. "You see, Lucius, this is why _I_ am the dark lord, and _you_ are merely my right hand man. You don't have the creativity necessary to complete a job. Hermione would not _knowingly_ work for the dark side, I agree. But what if she didn't know any better? What if she, say…._forgot_ about Dumbledore and Harry and that fool cause. If all she knew was us, and all we showed her was kindness, wouldn't she be in our favour?"

Comprehension dawned.

"So…you'd wipe her memory?" Draco asked, and Voldemort nodded.

"My Lord, it's a brilliant plan, I must admit," Lucius said, "but the fact still remains that she is a _mudblood_. I _won't_ have my son work with one of those." Draco nodded vehemently.

Voldemort sighed. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this. You see, I plan to go ahead with this, whether you agree with me or not."

"What do you mean," Lucius asked suspiciously, but Voldemort already had his wand raised.

"Obliviate!" He cried out, and a blast of light hit Lucius Malfoy in the chest. Draco gave a yell and tried to run, but Voldemort called out the curse again, and he stopped in his tracks.

Father and son both shook their heads, obviously disorientated. They looked around confused, but when they saw Voldemort they both stood to attention.

"Sorry, my Lord, I didn't realize you were there," said Lucius.

"You're forgiven, Lucius. I was just speaking with Hermione Granger," said Voldemort, with a sly smile.

"Who?" Asked Lucius, puzzled.

"Exactly."

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**A/N**: Now, I did my research like a good girl. In book two, Gilderoy Lockhart used "Obliviate" to wipe memories clean. However, in the beginning of book four, when Harry and the Weasleys are going to the World Cup, the exact same spell is used on the muggles there to make them forget that wizards are around. They still know who they are and where they are, though. 

So, the conclusion I came to was: the person casting the oblivious spell must be able to choose how much of the person's memory to wipe. In this case, Voldemort only erased Lucius' and Draco's memory of Hermione, and nothing else.

I'm absolutely begging you to leave a review. I've planned out most of this story, but I haven't written that much and I want to know if I should continue. So, leave a review. Tell me what you think.

**Next Chapter**: Harry tries to play hero, but he's too late. Voldemort's plan is underway.


	3. Harry's Visit

**A Haunting Lullaby – fire-and-ice89**

**Last Time**:

"_Obliviate!" He cried out, and a blast of light hit Lucius Malfoy in the chest. Draco gave a yell and tried to run, but Voldemort called out the curse again, and he stopped in his tracks._

_Father and son both shook their heads, obviously disorientated. They looked around confused, but when they saw Voldemort they both stood to attention._

"_Sorry, my Lord, I didn't realize you were there," said Lucius._

"_You're forgiven, Lucius. I was just speaking with Hermione Granger," said Voldemort, with a sly smile._

"_Who?" Asked Lucius, puzzled._

"_Exactly."_

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**Chapter Three – ****Harry's Visit**

Hermione smiled with grim satisfaction when the door closed after Lucius and Malfoy. They hadn't gotten much out of her.

The dementor was no longer in the room. Hermione vaguely wondered why, but didn't dwell on it too much. She hadn't slept in so long, and she was achingly tired.

She lay down on the hard floor, trying to get some rest. Maybe she'd even manage to get some sleep…

She jolted awake when the door clicked open.

Rubbing her eyes, she sat up, expecting Lucius and Malfoy again.

But it was Voldemort.

Surprised, she shuffled backwards in her cage, and watched him warily.

He stood between the door and the cage, and Hermione noticed with a pang of fear that he held his wand ready in his hand.

"Say goodbye to your past, Hermione," she heard his cold voice say. Before she could decipher the meaning of his cryptic words, he had raised his wand.

"Obliviate!"

Then she knew no more.

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It was a warm day outside.

The girl sat by a pond. Water trickled lazily from a fountain, into the cloudy depths. She peered in, hoping to see some fish, but nothing was there.

"You like the pond?"

The girl looked around, and saw a man standing there. He was tall and handsome, probably a bit older than herself. But how old was she? The girl held a hand to her forehead.

"I…" She started. "I feel so strange. I can't seem to remember anything."

The man didn't seem surprised. He sat down on the edge of the pond beside her, and took one of her hands in his own.

"Your name is Leila." He said. "You've had an accident, but everything will be all right now."

The girl – Leila – tried to remember the accident, but failed.

"Who are you?" She asked.

The man hesitated. "A friend."

"A friend," murmured Leila. "I have a friend."

Behind his disguise, Voldemort was gloating. Everything was working out perfectly. Right now, the girl was so trusting, and he planned to mold her trust.

When she was ready, he would introduce her to Draco, and the two would work together.

They actually had a lot of potential together, but as enemies, they tended not to notice. Draco liked to take action, and Hermione liked to think things through. The two would make a perfect team.

Suddenly, Voldemort realized his mistake. _Not Hermione._ He told himself. _Leila. She's Leila now._

Leila smiled innocently at him, and he smiled shamelessly back.

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Harry lay sprawled across his bed, finally letting the tears flow.

_Ron is dead._

The thought floated gently around his mind, like a sea breeze.

_Dead, dead, dead_.

It was beyond comprehension. He would never see Ron again. He would never talk to him, laugh with him, play Quidditch with him, eat with him…

He was gone. Just like that.

Harry felt a hatred rising within him. He hated Voldemort. A cold, dark hate. He hated Voldemort even more than when he himself was being threatened, funnily enough. He hated Voldemort because he had killed one best friend, and stolen away another.

But he was going to get her back, with or without help.

When night time fell, he was going to get her back.

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Voldemort was having another 'session' with Leila, and making progress in leaps and bounds.

He had already shown her a wand, and played along with her fantasy that they were 'playing witches'. She'd been slightly surprised, but delighted to find that the wand really worked. So far she'd been playing some games, levitating rocks and what-not.

But soon, soon he was going to teach her how to inflict pain. Real pain.

Voldemort gazed at the spider up in its web. "Imperio," he uttered, raising his wand. The spider stiffened its limbs, and began to climb down from its web.

Down the branch, down the tree, down to the ground.

Voldemort looked to the pond where Leila was sitting, trailing her fingers in the chilly water. She'd really taken to it.

The spider crawled across the ground, coming ever nearer. It was big and black, with bristly hairs glistening on its legs and body.

Leila skimmed her hand across the pond surface, blissfully unaware. She looked up when she saw her friend sit beside her. Tom, he'd said his name was. He was gazing at her intently.

"Are you afraid of spiders, Leila?" He asked her.

Leila frowned. Something stirred in the back of her mind. "Yes, I suppose I am," she said.

Tom smiled at her. "Well, if a spider crawled up to you, what would you do?"

"I don't know. Run away, I suppose," she said, looking at her reflection on the glossy surface of the water.

"No," said Tom. "I'll teach you something else. Have you still got your wand?"

Leila held it up, smiling in anticipation.

"Good. Okay, watch me, and then do what I do." Tom said. He pointed his own wand directly down at the ground. "Crucio." He said clearly, and the wand blasted a jet of light, leaving a hole in the moist earth.

Leila frowned. "Why did you do that?" She asked. She didn't like the hole in the ground. It had ruined the grass.

"It's only for practice," Tom said, watching her carefully. "Try it."

Leila pointed her wand down at the ground, and half heartedly spoke the words. Her wand fizzled, but nothing else happened.

"Not like that." Tom said. "Say it like you mean it. Say it like there's a big, fat, black spider crawling towards you."

Leila shuddered. "Crucio," she cried out, and her wand blasted a hole in the ground identical to Tom's.

"Good," said Tom, smiling at her. He was pleased. "But what if there actually _was_ a spider?"

Leila frowned, not understanding. She'd already pretended there was a spider.

But then she saw it. Crawling towards her was the big, black spider Tom had spoken of.

"Tom," she cried out in fear. It was coming closer.

"Use the curse!" Tom called. Leila whimpered, and pointed her wand at the approaching monstrosity.

"Crucio!" She cried out desperately.

The spider stopped in its tracks, and began twitching. Its legs folded and crumpled, until it was reduced to a small black ball rolled up in pain.

Leila sat and stared in fascination.

"I did that." She whispered. She felt Tom's arm around her.

"You did that." He said.

She was almost ready.

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Harry had nothing to help him. His invisibility cloak, his wand, his broom, everything had been left behind at Hogwarts. He suspected it wouldn't have been much trouble for someone to fetch them for him, but Dumbledore had probably wisely decided that he would be less likely to attempt a rescue without them.

Well, this time, Dumbledore was wrong. Nothing was going to keep him from reaching Hermione.

The only problem: he didn't know where she was.

He had a fair idea, though. Although he hadn't told Dumbledore, when he saw Hermione in his vision, that wasn't the only thing he saw.

He had seen the outside of a house – a very large house – before the vision changed to show the dungeon. The house was hidden among a forest, deep in a valley. It was extravagant, made entirely out of stone.

The Malfoy Manor.

Normally, it was untraceable. But during sixth year, Harry had been transported via portkey to the location, where Voldemort was waiting for him.

He had escaped that time. But now he knew where it was located.

Voldemort knew that Harry knew, which was why Harry supposed they were holding Hermione there. They wanted a place where Harry could find them by himself, if no one would help him.

Because they knew he would come.

Harry knelt down in front of the fireplace. It hadn't taken much effort to steal some floo powder out of the pot downstairs. Really, if Dumbledore wanted to make sure he wouldn't go to Hermione, he should have taken more precautions.

Carefully, he threw the powder into the roaring fire, and watched it turn green. "Serpentile Pub", he said clearly, and stepped into the fireplace.

He felt the familiar feeling of being tossed about, and closed his eyes against the flying soot. Finally, he was spat out of a fireplace onto a hard wooden floor.

Several faces were leering down on him in amusement. Harry stood up and brushed the soot off his clothes, but left his face dirty. He didn't want everyone recognizing who he was.

He was in a pub. He knew from last time that this pub was one of the closest fireplaces to Malfoy Manor.

He looked around, realizing that the several drunk men were waiting for him to speak. "Um, got lost I guess," he said lamely, and they all roared with drunken laughter.

Harry turned and hurried out the door.

There were several shops lining the street. The reason Harry had chosen the pub was because it was the only name he could remember, from when he was fleeing through here.

Harry waited a moment to get his bearings, then turned left. He walked until he reached the end of the street, then broke into a jog when he was sure no one would see him. He didn't want to raise suspicion.

The road narrowed, and began to twist sideways into the forest. Harry shivered against the cold night air and rubbed his arms. He was beginning to feel very vulnerable without a wand.

Inside the forest, he broke into a run. Leaves rustled around him, and a lone owl hooted mournfully. The hair on Harry's scalp prickled, and it took all his will power to keep going, when every instinct was screaming at him to turn around and head back home.

_Hermione, Hermione, think about reaching Hermione_.

Harry gritted his teeth together, and burst through the edge of the forest.

Malfoy Mansion loomed before him. Harry gulped and started up the sloping driveway.

It was very exposed on the slope, and Harry expected to be hit with a curse at any minute, but none came. He made a dash over to the high stone fence, and was protected from view momentarily.

Carefully, he edged his way along the fence until he came to the gates.

They were open. It was almost as though they'd been waiting for him.

Harry had a grave feeling of misgiving as he walked between the gates. He had no wand, no support, no backup plan.

"I must be crazy," he muttered out loud to himself.

The gardens were dark, and provided shelter. Harry crouched down behind a well trimmed bush for a moment, surveying his task.

It was then that he heard singing.

Stunned, he listened to the voice for a moment. It sounded like Hermione's…but that was impossible. What was Voldemort doing, trying to torture her by making her sing?

She sounded close. She had to be in the garden.

Heart thundering in his chest, Harry scooted around the manicured gardens. He didn't want to risk calling out her name, because he was positive someone would be guarding her.

She was by the pond. Harry paused, hiding behind a tree, and watched her. She was sitting on the edge of the pond, trailing her hands in the water and singing an unfamiliar tune.

No one else was around.

Harry could have screamed in frustration. What was she doing? Why didn't she run? She looked so vacant…

Suddenly, she seemed to feel his intense gaze upon her. Her song faltered, and she turned, looking directly at Harry.

"Who's there?" She asked warily. Harry took a last look around, and then risked everything.

He stepped into the clearing. "Hermione," he hissed. "It's me. We have to go now. Quickly, come with me."

The girl remained on the edge of the pond, looking frightened.

"Hermione!" Harry repeated, pleadingly.

"My name's Leila." The girl said, looking directly into his eyes. There was no recognition in them.

Harry stiffened. "What have they done to you, Hermione?" He whispered sadly.

"Go away," said the girl, beginning to raise her voice. "Go away or I'll call Tom."

Harry's breath caught in his throat. Tom? He realized that the girl was panicking.

"No no no." He said quickly, trying to reassure her. "Don't call anyone. I'm not going to hurt you."

Something in the girl changed.

"Yes, you are." She said. "I'm scared of you. You're going to hurt me." She pulled a wand out of her front pocket, and pointed it at Harry.

There was no time for understanding her actions.

"Crucio," She uttered, and Harry dropped to his knees, doubled over in pain.

_Don't scream._ He though desperately, eyes watering. _Don't bring anyone down here_.

The girl repeated the curse and the pain intensified. Harry fell over, rolling on the ground in agony. But he bore the pain without a sound.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the girl lowered her wand.

"You didn't scream," she said, sounding disappointed.

Harry scrambled to his feet, staring in disbelief at this…this _person_ who was definitely not his best friend.

She had her wand raised again. Harry backed away.

"Don't," he pleaded. "Herm – Leila, I'm your friend."

"No, you're not." Leila said tonelessly. "Tom's my friend. I don't know who you are, but I don't like you. If you don't go away right now, I'll hurt you again. And this time, I'll make sure you scream."

Harry groaned. "Okay, I'm going. Just don't do that again." He backed away, never taking his eyes off her face. When the lone girl on the edge of the pond had disappeared from view, he turned and ran.

He didn't know who that was. But it wasn't Hermione.

He had to tell Dumbledore.

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Leila lowered her wand once the boy disappeared, shaking with fright. She remained in that position, so still, for almost an hour.

The footsteps startled her. Thinking it was the crazy man returning, she whipped out her wand and turned to face the approaching person.

It was only Tom.

"Why are you out here?" He asked her angrily. She cowered away from him, not liking his tone.

Seeing her fear, he lowered his voice.

"I'm sorry, Leila," he said. "I was just worried."

"I wanted to see what the pond looked like under the moon," Leila said. "I wasn't doing any harm. But then a nasty person came, and he made me afraid."

Tom's eyes locked onto hers. "What did you say?" he asked in a low voice.

"A nasty person made me afraid, but I remembered what you said, Tom. I used my wand on him, I said that word, and he rolled up just like the spider. Then he went away."

Tom stood rigid for several moments, but then he relaxed.

"You used the Cruciatus curse on him?" He asked, and Leila nodded. He smiled broadly, and seemed pleased.

"Was he tall, with messy black hair?" He asked Leila. Leila thought hard, and then nodded. Tom suddenly saw how to turn this almost disastrous situation to his own great advantage.

He put a hand on Leila's shoulder, guiding her to the pond, and sat down beside her.

"He's the bad guy." Tom said solemnly, looking into Leila's eyes.

"He said he was my friend," Leila said fearfully. "But I didn't like him."

Tom shook his head. "No. He's the bad guy, and he was lying to you. You did the right thing, to put that curse on him."

"Really?" Leila smiled. She liked doing the right thing.

Tom nodded. "There are lots more bad guys out there. They will always lie to you, and they will always try to hurt you. But you know what to do, don't you?"

Leila nodded. "I say, 'Crucio!', and they fall down on the ground."

Tom smiled. "That's right. But there's something else you can do, too. Something to make sure they'll never hurt you again."

Leila smiled widely. "I'd like to know that. What do I do?"

Tom stood up slowly. "It's late. Perhaps I'll show you tomorrow." He turned and offered an arm to Leila, who took it graciously.

The two of them walked, arm in arm, back to the manor. An innocent bystander watching them would never have realized that one was the most evil person to ever draw breath, and that the girl so willingly following him was actually his most recent victim.

No one would have suspected anything.

And that was why it was perfect.

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**A/N**: Leave a review! Reviews keep me going. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter!

What do you think about the length of the chapters? Are they too long? At the moment I think this story will be about fifteen chapters long, but that's with long chapters. Should I make them shorter and have more chapters overall? The trouble is, I can never find good cut off points halfway through…anyway tell me what you think.

**Next Chapter**: Leila's training continues, and she is introduced to Draco.


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